


The Special Favorite

by TrashAYfanfiction



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin x ObiWan (implied), Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Face-Fucking, Gang Rape, Humiliation, Kink Meme, M/M, Multi, Mutilation, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 22:41:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15672747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashAYfanfiction/pseuds/TrashAYfanfiction
Summary: The Jedi had never liked Anakin. Written for the SWkink meme.





	The Special Favorite

**Author's Note:**

> Written when TFA came out for the SWkink meme. Never finished, but hopefully it will be eventually. (someone commented on it a year or so later on the meme, saying how much they liked it, so that keeps me going). Posted here so others can be terrified by the trash.
> 
> "Starting out as a bit more torture/humiliation than originally intended, but no worries there will be porn. he's around ROTS age. And yes, there is a reason he's so powerless and a who for these knights, but wait until the fic ends to find out. ;) "

Anakin lay splayed out on the hard temple floor. He’d been ambushed; a group of young Knights. There had been rumors he’d turned to the dark side. There were always rumors…. He hated that no one in the temple trusted him. How could he try to be good when there was such a dislike of him?  
He was groggy and disoriented. They’d hit him in the back of the head. The room swirled. The marble floor was cold. He tried to power through it, lifting his upper body, instantly feeling woozy. One of the Knights swept his elbows out from under him. His head collided with the floor again. The body was on top of him. Someone grabbed for his lightsaber. His head hurt.  
He tried to throw the man, willing the venom of power to surge through him. ‘Jedi don’t do this!’ He shouted in his head, struggling as the man pinned his wrists. His struggle was fultile. Why?! Why was he so weak? The hand on his mechno arm flexed, leather bunching in a force aided jerk. He felt it’s metal parts grinding together, delicate pieces bending out of place. The assailant started a rotation, wrenching at the prosthetic, shirring the glove off. Bare gold bones flickered in the light.  
The assailant inspected it for a moment, partner restraining Anakin’s twitching flesh arm. The metal appendage jerked desperately, wanting to reach up to that man’s face and pull his eyes out.  
The young knight smiled. “So this is what you look like powerless,” He pinched at the metal fingertips, careful to not get his hand caught, else the other crush it.  
“Pretty clever to build yourself this, though we’ve all heard the story of how you foolishly lost your arm in the first place. You should listen to your master,”  
Anakin spat at the man, bucking, jerking the arm away. His metal wrist was quickly caught again and he got a slap to the face for his efforts.  
It stung, but was more humiliating than anything. He felt the anger boiling through his body as he saw another knight carelessly twirling his saber handle, taunting him.  
“You want to kill us, don’t you?”  
Anakin surged forward, and a heavy boot landed on his stomach, twisting into his ribs, his opponent light the saber, leveling it at it’s owner’s face. “I wouldn’t try that if I were you,”  
Anakin snorted. His head was throbbing. He couldn’t see straight, he couldn’t focus, partially out of rage, partially from the drug. It had to be a drug in his system. He was more powerful than any Jedi, this couldn’t happen.  
The knight on top of him scooted up his chest, pinning his shoulders with knees, again moving to his mechno arm, twisting it, crumpling bolts in a force aided grip. Small pieces fell to the floor like the drop of pins, metal no match for the Force.  
The jumbled mass was shortcircuting electricity, it mangled digits spasmed erratically as he tried to move it.  
He panicked. They meant business, they were going to kill him!  
The knight sat astride his chest. And started pulling the forearm supports out, slowly, languidly, like peeling a fruit, prying each long bone of gold metal from the jumbled mass, jerking to separate it.  
Anakin shook feeling so thankful that he didn’t build pain sensors into the durasteel.  
“So special, now look at him?”  
“He’s a pretty boy, I see why Master Kenobi fell for him,”  
“I know how he’d look better,” The one with the saber, played with the weapon, “Hold his flesh hand down, palm up,”  
The knight did as he was told, hand pinning anakin’s wrist.  
The other surged the saber down, piercing the palm, pinning it to the floor. The pain was white hot, flesh sizzled around the blade. Anakin screamed, doing his best not to move his hand, lest more of it get burned.  
“That will make him hold still,”  
“You’re evil,” One of the knights seemed shocked.  
The knight who had the blade shrugged, “He’s evil, you know what he does,” he turned to Anakin, “We’d all be jealous of your special treatment. You have no idea the privileges you’re granted, and yet you complain and want more. It’s like we have a Sith in our midst,”  
“How did you become Kenobi’s downfall? How did you get him to care about you?”  
“You know, when you first came here, he hated you when you first arrived. Blamed you for his master’s death. He didn’t want you. Nobody wanted you, we respecting the wishes of a dead man,”

“But look at that mouth on him. I’d love to see it wrapped around my cock,” Anakin shook his head out of the knights hold, threatening to bite the finger inspecting his lips.  
“How old were you when you started sucking him off?” A knight grabbed him by the chin again, teasing, “We know what you do with your master,”  
“I didn’t do anything,” Anakin was doing his best to ignore the pain in his hand, his heart rate was elevating by the minuet.  
“Sure?” One of the knights pulled Anakin’s hair back, “Because that looks like a hickey,” He roughly poked an angry purple spot peeking out of the Jedi’s collar.  
Anakin sneered, flexing in his restraints, “Are you jealous?,”  
“You’re a terrible liar,” The weight on his chest increased as the knight leaned forward.  
Somebody grabbed his foot, sliding his lower body. The saber shifted in his hand. Adrenaline was starting to pulse faster now. He couldn’t see around the knight holding him down, but he could feel his legs being wrenched apart. He tried to kick, muscles still feeling rubbery.  
A blow landed on one of his attackers’ chests, knocking him to the floor. Good. He had some strength. They were quickly on him again.  
When they slid his boot off and he was sure they were going to dislocate his knee. He kicked wildly, catching one of his attackers.  
He got a strike to the teeth, splitting his lip. He cursed as blood filled his mouth, but it was lost as his leggings were torn, tunics pushed upwards. Why was he so weak! He struggled against the void disconnecting his brain from his muscles, throwing his legs side to side until they were pinned.  
“Do you know how lucky you are to be here? You’re an unfit jedi, we’re reminding you of your humility, so think of this as a favor,” One pulled more at his leggings, clutching his hips, grinding at him between his thighs, fucking him through their pants. He shuddered. He could feel their hardness.  
“You were too old to be a Jedi and yet you were still trained. You’re promoted to Knight without trials. You’re put on the Council through no merit of your own- are you fucking the chancellor too to get his special treatment? Not to mention, you’re married,”  
Anakin froze. Only noise distant sparks from his prosthetic hand and the hum of a lighsaber.  
“Oh yes, we know. It’s not like you hide it very well,” Their breath stunk, “Does Obiwan know? Or does he pretend not to?”  
“You know,” the figure dry humping him leaned around the man on his chest, “He loves you,” Fingers ran through his hair, “It’s not like he hides that very well either,” He leaned down to kiss Anakin’s pliant lips. Tonguing the soft full buds, licking the small cut. “Why do you do that to him?”  
Anakin was too shocked to recoil. He flesh hand sizzled, layers of skin beginning to separate. It must have been starting to blister.  
“Oh, don’t worry. We’re not going to get your Master in trouble for this. He’s too important to lose. You though, you’re just a tool to be used. You’re the Chosen one. We’re going to use you to bring balance to the Force, then we’ll throw you away.”  
He quickly recovered as the tongue in his mouth slipped deeper.  
He snapped his teeth shut. There was bellowing as the man recoiled. Anakin bit harder, sneering, teeth gritting even more due to the increased pain in his hand.  
He was backhanded again, harder this time, and his grip loosened, allowing his attacker free, stilling the blood with the sleeve of his robe.  
He must have looked like a demon. He could feel the bruise on his eye darkening and the wet slick of blood down his chin. He smiled. That was satisfying.

“Shit! This fucker bites!” Somebody’s belt was quickly shoved in his mouth, buckling around his skull. He snarled as his teeth ground down in the leather, shaking his head like an animal, saber in his hand keeping him from doing real damage. Blood dripped out of his nose, running down the contours of his lips.  
His captors laughed. “Look at him. You think he’s angry with us?”  
Anakin kicked, wrapping his leg around the one grinding against him, slamming him to the floor.  
They held his legs apart, one on each. Hands felt up his pectorals and slid over his crotch.  
He wanted to cry out, plead them to stop. But he wouldn’t give them the pleasure. He clenched his eyes shut. Meditate. Calm.  
He felt a hand cup him again, fingers prying into the soft flesh.  
Stop! Anakin’s mind was screaming at him. No! DON’T TOUCH ME!  
How many were there? He would remember their names, their faces. He would destroy them.  
How many were there? Three? Four? He couldn’t focus! The reached out through the force to memorize their signatures and felt nothing. He shook, searching for anything. A connection. Obiwan. Anything. He found darkness, suffocating darkness.  
Something warm. They were mouthing his crotch through his pants! Abruptly he snapped back to the present.  
His pants were torn the rest of the way, his tunics pushed open. Rough impersonal hands grabbed at him, grinning as they found the small bar of metal decorating his left breast.  
They flicked at the nipple ring.  
“Oh, Ani, you’re so cute,”  
Anakin’s nostrils flared. Nobody was supposed to know that nickname. They pinched the ring, one leaned down to kiss it, bite it. Anakin Grimaced.  
“You really think we didn’t know? We can hear you through the door, you’re quite loud,”  
‘Oh yes, Master! Fuck me harder! Pull my hair!” A mockery of his voice, “Oh gods, Ani, you’re going to make me come!” Anakin felt sick to his stomach.  
“Yes,” They smiled, each smile becoming more and more disgusting. The wrenched what was left of his prosthetic, crushing the metal in hand, wires sparking. Playfully twirling a tendril or two around their fingers.  
“Oh ! Ani! Ah~!” “ A mockery of his master’s voice.  
“You like it fast and rough don’t you?” One was back on his chest, holding him down by the hair, grinding their crotch on his gagged, now tearstreaked face. When had he started crying?! Make it stop, tears made it worse. “We’ve seen you limp out of your Master’s quarters,”  
Three fingers were plunged into him. He grit his teeth as his body accommodated. Spit ran down his chin mixing with the blood, fluids growing cold on his neck.  
“He’s loose,”  
“It’s like you’re meant to be fucked.”  
“Your ass is incredibly soft,” The fingers flexed within him, as another hand pawed him, testing the flexibility of his skin, “Though you are more than little loose. Did you get fucked earlier today?”  
He tried to look at the floor and not at the man on him. The stretch hurt. More tears slipped out, salty, sticky.  
The man above him decided this was a good moment to fumble with his belt.  
“You’re a slut, I bet you’re enjoying this,” That smug face, he wanted to bash it into the floor.  
He rubbed his dick against Anakin’s bottom lip. “You’re lucky you have that gag in, or you’d be deep throating me,”  
He was intimidatingly hard, and he smelled bad. Anakin shivered as the blunt cock head slid over his skin.  
“You’re so pretty, boy. Plush lips. That face, Ah!” He evaluated his captive’s distraught features, black eye, tears running down his face, blood drying, brown leather stretching his lips apart, venom gone, new pain on his face as one of the other knights shoved inside him. A jolt as his nipple ring is pinched. A strangled scream from jostling the lightsaber in his hand. His prosthetic spasming uselessly against the floor.  
He jerked himself to the sight, hand tangled in Anakin’s hair.  
“Yeah, cum on his face!” The other knights jeered. Anakin could feel the man quicken pace; jerks becoming erratic, faster, faster, before gradually stilling. He flinched as it landed ropy and slick, coating cheeks and chin and throat.  
There is another cock smearing the previous man’s sticky white come across his face. A bit of it gets in Ani’s left eye. There’s now cum in his eyelashes, clumps apparent in the fine hairs.  
The tears won’t stop. The men won’t stop. Why? He throws up against the gag, and they’re forced to remove it. They pull the saber from his hand, and supported by his elbows, he retches on the floor. The man inside of him pulls out. Terrified, shaking, humiliated, he assumes it’s over.  
Until he hears an unsettling cackle. There’s another Knight stepping out from behind the pillar,  
“Breed him,”


End file.
